Bellarke Roomates AU
by lum0smylife
Summary: Collection of Bellarke Roomate AU's that are probably going to interweave into one story. Hope you enjoy.
1. Chapter 1

**Based on the writing prompt 'I just opened the front door to the sound of barking and you are just sitting on the couch with this stupid grin - wait a minute what is that in your lap? OHMUY GOD PLEASE DON'T TELL ME YOU BOUGHT A FUCKING DOG.'**

* * *

Clarke felt every limb, every bone, and every muscle in her body ache with exhaustion from her night shift. Things had gotten a bit crazy, two of the nurses weren't in and she had to cover their shifts. Suddenly her morning shift had turned into a whole day shift too. Besides she was in med school, she needed the money.

Rubbing her eyes, Clarke made her way down the corridor towards her apartment, mentally preparing herself for whatever chaos Bellamy had in store for her. Octavia, her previous roommate, had recently moved out to live with her boyfriend Lincoln, and now her brother, Bellamy, was both unemployed and homeless, and needed a place to crash.

Things had been difficult at first. There was still tension between them from their terrible high school days love-hate friendship. But Clarke had to admit that their relationship had gotten better, both of them having partially matured over the years. Things could still be _much_ better if he wasn't so annoying with his smug smile, pompous air and sassy remarks. All Clarke needed right now was sleep, not a sass master.

Searching for her keys, she huffed and muttered words of calm as she turned the key into place, once found. Taking a second for herself, Clarke blinked blankly and sighed heavily. "You can do this," she whispered. "Just go straight to your bed and go to sleep." Nodding to herself, Clarke opened the door to find-

"A _dog_?!" Clarke yelled, her voice booming across her apartment, hailing the smug attention of a stupid smug bastard with a stupid dog on his lap.

"Hey Princess," Bellamy smiled, saluting her slightly from the couch. Yet Clarke continued to stare at the black corgi perched on Bellamy's lap.

Blinking furiously, Clarke dug her nails into her palms. "You bought a fucking dog?!" she yelled, disbelief dripping from her words. Her mind was going to explode.

A smug smile spread across Bellamy's face as he turned to look at the corgi once again. "Yeah," he said with enough mirth to piss Clarke off and stroked its fur. "Isn't he cute?"

Clarke whimpered slightly and took a step forward, slamming the door behind her. "Bellamy, we can't _afford_ a dog. We're already one _month_ behind rent!" she cried, her voice getting tauter by the second.

"But he's so adorable," Bellamy said, holding the dog up in front of his face and making little waving motions. "You can't say no to this face."

"I can so no to this face if he's going to cost me. A lot." Clarke hissed, dropping her things by the door. "You don't get it do you?" she yelled, moving in front of him so every word could be heard. "We're already _neck high_ in bills. We're behind in paying rent. And the freaking groceries you buy cost a hoot!"

"They're for my body. In order to train others, I must train myself," he muttered, though he was slowly rising the effect of his jokes wasn't helping.

"I am trying _so hard_ to get my life together. I am behind in school. I cover more stupid shifts at the hospital to make up for your end of the deal. I try so hard to fix your stupid mistakes and you keep on messing up!" Her eyes started to water, and before Clarke knew it, she had dropped to the ground, in a hysteria of angry sobs. The day's exhaustion, lack of food and sleep deprivation had finally caught up with her.

Bellamy's face softened. He hadn't realised he had been such a burden to her. Placing his hand on her shoulder, he crouched in front of her, cross-legged and serious. "Clarke," he whispered, his voice low and gentle, as he gently removed his hand from her shoulder. "He's O's. The dog is Octavia's. Not ours. Lincoln and Octavia's. She's going on a weekend road trip with Lincoln, and asked me to take care of him."

Clarke stills, as the words settle in her mind and she feels her anger dissipate. "Oh," she mumbled, blinking blankly through wet lashes. "She never mentioned him before…"

"That's because she only bought him today. Figures, they're on one adventure after the other. Dropped him off in the morning, but you didn't make it home for lunch, so I had no choice but to agree before they left," he explained, watching her eyes fall to the ground, as the embarrassment settled in.

A second passes and he can feel her partial guilt and unapologetic honesty radiate off of her. Sighing heavily, he untangled her hands from the fidgeting mess they were becoming, and said, "Look, you're right."

Clarke snorted under her breath, as he clenched his jaw. " _Not all the time_ , but in this instance you are. I _have_ been slacking recently," he said, being careful to find the right words. "It's just…I've had to look after people my whole life. It's been one turmoil after another. A never ending job. And I just wanted a break. A chance to be young, free and reckless again. I wanted to know what that was like," Bellamy said, his voice quietening. "I didn't know how much of an impact it was having on you. I'm sorry."

Clarke pursed her lips and nodded a little as she absorbed his worked. "We all have baggage Bellamy. But we learn to live with it," she said, through wet lashes. "Having fun doesn't mean you forget about the people around you or your responsibilities. It means enjoying yourself despite all those things."

Bellamy stared back at her, as her words sunk in. "Take me for example," Clarke quipped. "I have to deal with you all day, and I still manage to be the funniest person in this room."

Bellamy snorted and cocked his brow. "I don't think watching Grey's Anatomy counts as number one on the fun list."

"Shut up, you love that show," Clarke said, whacking him playfully on the arm.

"How to get away with murder is better," Bellamy argued.

Clarke raised her brows and leaned back in offense, "who made who cry now?"

Bellamy hung his head low for a A/second, admitting fault. "You're right. I haven't been fair to you. I'll try to start picking up the slack from now on." Clarke rose her brow, questioning his authenticity. " _Besides_ , I got the job at the youth centre from the other day."

Clarke sat up straight, her face brightened with shock. "The one teaching high school kids self-defence?" she asked, her eyes as wide as tennis balls. Bellamy nodded his head slightly, and averted his gaze to the ground at her joy.

"It's temporary of course," he mumbled, "but if I get into the head teacher's good books maybe I'll get round to teaching history someday."

"Bellamy Blake. History buff," Clarke teased, a bubble of laughter escaping them both.

"Something like that," he mumbled, tracing non-existent small shapes on the ground. Clarke watched him like that for a while, as they both absorbed the silence.

"Looks like Gustus wants some attention," Bellamy said, finally breaking the silence as the corgi nuzzled against his arms.

"Gustus?" Clarke asked, her brows raised in an all too knowing manner. "As in Augustus and Octavia?"

"Yes, as in Augustus and Octavia," Bellamy replied, pulling Gustus into his hands. "Looks like Princess has been paying attention to my stories."

"You wish, Blake," Clarke muttered, scrambling onto her feet. "It'll be a long time before I listen to anything you say."

"You already do," Bellamy said teasingly. "Night Princess," he called, too invested in playing with Gustus' to notice her stare as she leaves the room. It lasts barely for a second, before Clarke turned around, rubbing her eyes with a sloppy smile and stories of Augustus and Octavia filling her head.

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 **A/N: I'm still fairly new to writing Bellarke, so have faith and patience as I learn to juggle this ship, but I do hope you enjoyed this oneshot and let me know if you want me to continue it! You can find me on tumblr under 'biglittlebluebox'**


	2. Chapter 2

**You slipped in the shower and got hurt. And, of course, now it's up to me to patch you together… Oh, but uhh, please wear a towel, okay?**

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Clarke hummed to herself in the morning silence. She loved the mornings when she had nothing to do, but just enjoy the day's silence with a nice cup of coffee. Bellamy, on the other hand, was in a much more hazed state than her, following her prior breakdown in the previous month. His new job heralded more hours working out, spent several hours in the evenings making lessons plans, and took two showers a day; once in the morning, and once after work. Clarke didn't mind of course. She only had a problem if he took too long, but Bellamy usually worked his way around it by either showering when she was asleep or busy at work.

The two had worked out a system following her breakdown over Gustus, and the past month had actually been quiet in the grand scale of arguments. Things weren't perfect, but they were good. Not that she'd ever admit that to Bellamy herself.

Clarke was just about to take a bite out of her cereal, when she heard a large crash come from the bathroom. The sound of a shower curtain ripping, and bottles falling had Clarke leaping to her feet. "Bellamy?!" Clarke yelled, sprinting to the bathroom door. "Bellamy? Are you okay?"

She pressed her ear to the door and heard a few groans. Slamming her body against the door, Clarke turned the door handle, to walk in on Bellamy splayed across the bathroom floor, face flat and naked.

"Woah! Oh no," she exclaimed, quickly retreating behind the door; her face burning. "I'm _so_ sorry!" she yelled, turning to face away from the gap in the door. Closing her eyes, Clarke tried to erase the mental picture of Bellamy butt-naked on the shower curtain that had just scarred her brain. "Are you okay?" she asked, wrinkling her nose.

"Does it sound like I'm okay?" Bellamy replied, huffing through gritted teeth. "I think I hurt my ankle," he said, looking down at his ankle.

Contemplating her next actions, Clarke pinched the bridge of her nose and said, "Okay, well I'm going to have to check it out. So please wear a towel or something…and cover all your bits?"

"I think it's too late for that." Bellamy said, dragging the shower curtain around his waist. "You've already seen my butt," he huffed through gritted teeth, as he pulled himself into a sitting position against the bath tub. "Okay, you're safe to walk in. No scarring images here."

Clarke rolled her eyes and walked in, assessing the situation at hand. Bellamy was perched up against the tub, with a half apologetic, half impish smile on his face. There was a large bruise bulging around his cheekbone, grazed with a cut. "What the hell happened?" she yelled, immediately crouching down in front of him and took his face into her hands. "Care to explain the bleeding mess on your face?"

"It's nothing," Bellamy said, flinching slightly as she grazed his wound. He squinted his eyes as she tilted his chin, observing every inch of his face. He could feel his face burn at their close proximity, and pulled away slightly, averting his gaze. "It's nothing, really," he coughed, looking her straight in the eyes. "It's just a cut. It's the ankle I'm more worried about."

Clarke looked at him for a while, before nodding and wiped her hands on her trousers. "Okay, let's have a look at your leg," she said, moving backwards and slipping her arm around his back. The two of them combined, managed to get him standing. Closing the toilet seat, Clarke perched him on top of it and moved towards the bathroom cabinet.

"So," Bellamy said, a teasing smile spreading across his lips, as Clarke retrieved the first aid kit. "Enjoyed the view?"

Clarke crouched in front of him, and stared him dead in the eye, unamused. "Shut up," she said, opening the box to find a tube bandage. Pulling his right foot up onto her knee, she observed the damage surrounding his ankle and started to unwrap the bandage roll. "And now I know you've got a mole on your butt."

Bellamy leaned back on his arms and threw his head back, as she wrapped the bandage around his ankle. "That is _not_ a mole," he scoffed. "It's a beauty spot."

"Sure," Clarke sang, clipping the bandage into place. "Whatever makes you sleep at night."

Bellamy tilted his head to the side and raised a brow, and Clarke did the exact same. They often had moments like these. Brow-offs.

"Let me take a look at that cut," she said, moving closer now and pulling his face towards hers. Making sure she didn't look at anywhere but his cut, she grabbed an antiseptic wipe and wiped his wound.

Bellamy's gaze flickered across the room, once up at the ceiling, then at the walls and then back at Clarke. And she could feel his gaze too. "What?" Clarke snapped, squirming slightly under his gaze.

"Nothing," he replied, staring at the side of her face. "Just thinking you could actually be good at this."

Clarke snorted as she reached for a bandage. "There's a reason why I'm training to become a surgeon," she said, pulling his face closer to hers. She could feel Bellamy's warmth radiate off of him, and his breath flare up her skin. Placing the bandage on the cut, she sighed once it was done. "There," Clarke muttered, her voice a low rumble as she met his gaze. She had never realised how dark and soft his brown eyes were up close, or the freckles that spotted across his cheeks like stars grouped in constellations. "Done," she said, sitting back and clearing her throat.

"Thanks Princess," Bellamy said, pushing himself upright. He looked down at his foot, to observe the bandage around his ankle. "Is it sprained?" he asked, looking up at her, as she cleared their surroundings.

"Yep," Clarke replied, placing the first aid box back in the cabinet. "And if you want it to heal properly, then you better not go putting your body through strenuous exercise."

"What about the kids?" Bellamy quipped, wide eyed and alarmed.

Clarke hovered over him and placed her hand on his shoulder. "It's not going to be the end of the world. You can teach them from the side-lines." Bellamy sighed heavily under his breath, and leaned backwards thunking his head against the wall. "It'll just take two weeks to heal. You'll be _fine_ , Bellamy."

Bellamy nodded his head slowly, figuring out his teaching plans for the next two weeks. "Okay, I'll figure it out," he said. Tilting his head to the side, a smug smile spread across his face as he changed his tune, "Was that concern I heard in your voice? Are you actually worried about me, Princess?"

Clarke rolled her eyes and pushed herself off his shoulder. "Not worried about you, but the kid's you'll be teaching," she said, moving towards the door.

"Sure!" Bellamy called after her. "Whatever makes you sleep at night, Princess!"

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 **A/N: Decided to turn this into a series after all. Let me know what you think! You can find me on tumblr under 'biglittlebluebox'**


	3. Chapter 3

**_I SWEAR TO GOD DON'T TICKLE ME! OKAY ALRIGHT! YOU WIN! I SHOULDN'T HAVE CHEATED IN CALL OF DUTY. YOU MAY SHOOT ME NEXT TIME BUT PLEASE DON'T TICKLE ME!_**

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"Alright sass master! What are we doing?" Clarke asked, plopping herself on the end of the couch. Stretching her legs out, Bellamy nudged her to the side with his foot, so the pair had equal amount of space.

"Call of duty," Bellamy answered, his eyes glued to the screen as he set the game up. "And be warned," he said, tossing Clarke her remote control. "I've been practicing all day."

Clarke scoffed when Bellamy winked at her, over confidence shining from him. She had played Call of Duty almost every day with Raven during pre-med. Both of them having intense matches whenever either one of them caught a break. Competing with Raven always ended in losing (not that Bellamy needed to know that), but Clarke had gotten pretty damn good at it as a result. Besides, she had beaten Wells and Octavia in the past. Bellamy was going to be another nice new addition to the list.

" _Please_ ," she said, shifting the cushion supporting his sprained ankle. "You'll have to practice for a lot longer than a day to get better than me. I am the Call of Duty queen."

"A high statement for someone who's going to lose," Bellamy goaded, shifting his position so he was facing the screen fully. Both of them mirroring each other's body language, Clarke cocked her eyebrow and said, "Any last words, Blake?"

"Other than victory is mine?" Bellamy said, an impish grin spreading across his face.

"You'll be eating your own words in a bit," Clarke said, licking her lips as she focused on the screen.

"What?!" Bellamy yelled, leaning forward towards the TV. "This can't be true! NO! You cheated!" he yelled, pointing an accusing finger at Clarke, who was now dancing on the spot in victory.

"Just call me the Commander of Death, because I just killed you!" Clarke exclaimed, throwing her console on the couch.

"Don't you try using Oppenheimer's words against me," Bellamy said, prodding Clarke in the arm. "I want a rematch," Bellamy grumbled, standing up facing Clarke now.

"Actually Oppenheimer said he was quoting the Bhagavad Gita, so that's another failure of yours," Clarke said, wrinkling her nose, knowing she had struck a nerve. "And sure, if you just want to lose again."

Bellamy stared at Clarke for a second, before hurling at her middle and pinning her to the ground. Clarke shrieked in both shock and laughter, as he started to tickle her all over. "Ow! Stop! I hate being tickled," she yelled in between gasps.

Bellamy held her wrists as she aimed them at his face. "Admit you cheated! Admit you lost!" he yelled, trying not to lose himself to laughter, as they both melted into a writhing ball of nudges.

"In your dreams, Blake!" Clarke yelled, nudging his face. Bellamy responded by tickling her further, as she pushed his arms away, and yelled, "Okay! Okay! I admit it! You win! I shouldn't have cheated! You may shoot me next time, but please for the love of god, don't tickle me!"

Bellamy stopped, his grip loosening around her wrists. "Thank you," he said in an innocent manner. "That's all I ever wanted." Clarke snorted in response, and rolled her eyes. Bellamy let go of her hands, but held her gaze, a silent message passing between the two. He could see her eyes soften and search his own. Clearing his throat, he moved back, no longer hovering over her. Shaking his slightly, he grabbed his console and retreated back into his gaming position. He could see Clarke do the same out of the corner of his eyes. Biting his lips and clearing his head, he said, "Care for a rematch? A fair one, this time?" His tone was much lighter than usual, acting as if nothing had happened.

"Please," Clarke said, rolling her eyes and doing the same. "War is never fair. Victory stands on the back of sacrifice."

"And who said that?" Bellamy asked, genuinely curious this time.

"Lexa," Clarke revealed.

"And she's the best example of a healthy human being?" Bellamy said, raising his brow.

"No," Clarke said in a matter of face tone. "But that's exactly why it was easy killing you when your motto is "Love is weakness"" Bellamy frowned and pursed his lips. Clarke saw the sympathetic look in his eyes, and whacked his arm. "Look, I'm fine. It's just a game. Now do you want to spend your time looking sorry for me, or do you want to get ready to lose?"

That stirred Bellamy into action, who swivelled into place. "Niether, because I won't be losing."

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 **A/N: I've never actually played Call of Duty before, so this was fairly difficult. I hope I've done it justice, let me know what you think! :)**

 **P.S. You can find me on tumblr under 'biglittlebluebox'**


	4. Chapter 4

**We passed out on your bed after playing Scrabble last night, and our limps are completely entangled, the blankets are on the floor and I don't think I ever want to leave.**

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Clarke sighed to herself as she massaged the shampoo on her head. Today had been a rough day. It was a long weekend, which meant Clarke should've gotten the three days off. Yet, the hospital was always in need of some extra help, and had called her in, in the morning, when she was conveniently slouched on the sofa, never having made it to her bed from the previous night's game of Call of Duty. She should've expected it. Just because it was a long weekend, didn't mean people weren't going to get hurt. This was going to be her life from now on.

Turning the water off, she dried herself off and placed her hair in a towel turban. Applying her moisturiser on, she could feel the perfect combination of exhaustion and comfort seeping in. Though the day was exhausting, she loved the ability to fall asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. Yet she didn't feel like falling asleep just yet.

"D'you know what I'm feeling?" Clarke said, moving to the living room where Bellamy was sitting on the couch, aimlessly flicking through the channels.

"What?" he asked, staring blankly at the TV screen.

"Scrabble." Bellamy nearly jumped out of his seat, as he turned around to see whether or not she was joking.

"Really?" he said, wide-eyed and earnestly.

"Yep," Clarke laughed, loving the pure innocence that seeped through his face. This was the one game she _knew_ he would beat her. She didn't mind though. All she wanted right now was some company, some wine and the warmth she felt when spending a lazy night in with Bellamy.

"I'll get the board," he said, speed walking to his room.

* * *

Clarke didn't really know at what point the two of them had fallen sleep. She vaguely remembered her last word being 'damn' gaining her a measly seven points in comparison to Bellamy's twelve. She remembered Bellamy's brows being raised, as if to say even she could do better. She remembered his eyelids drooping, as he failed to rest his head on his palm without it slipping off or him falling asleep. She her own eyelids doing the same, as Bellamy lazily placed the bored on the ground and fell asleep on his back. She remembered slurred murmurs of 'G'night' and 'don't let the bed bugs bite.'

What she didn't remember was how their limbs got entangled in their sleep. Or how the blankets managed to fall on the floor. Or how Bellamy's face was inches from her own, with his mouth open and drooling on his bedding. It's got to be his bed. Clarke had always argued how his mattress was comfier than his. It was intoxicating. Yet she couldn't find herself wanting to leave.

With the sun filtering through the blinds, she felt it's warmth on her back, and smiled as it fell across Bellamy's face. It's orange-y yellow hue warming up his tanned face, causing his freckles to appear all the more prominent. Clarke's gaze flickered over his face, absorbing the curves in arms tucked under his pillow, and the quiet sleep sounds he was making. She could feel herself staring longer than usual and sighed, rolling onto her back. Though she wouldn't admit it, Bellamy provided her the feeling of safety, warmth and comfort. He treated her as an equal and respected her decisions. Though things had been tough at first, with neither of them being able to stand each other's prescence, they had worked things out, and now she didn't even want to leave his room.

Beside her, her phone buzzed, signalling another call for work. Slowly moving off his bed and grabbing her things, Clarke crept towards the door, the floorboard creaking beneath her. "Sweet dreams, Bell," she whispered, closing the door behind her.

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 **A/N: I've got the flu so I may be slower than usual at updating new chapters (apologies) but I do hope you're enjoying this lil' series. I haven't played scrabble in ages either (I really should play games more) but still hope it was okay. Comments are always welcome. You cna find me on tumblr under 'biglittlebluebox.'**


	5. Chapter 5

**Based on the roomate au 'OUR FRIENDS COME OVER ALL THE TIME AND WE NEVER TELL THEM TO FUCK OFF, but we just really wanted to watch this shitty movie alone tonight AND HOLY SHIT THEY THINK WE WANT PRIVACY TO HAVE SEX.'**

* * *

" _Morning_ ," Bellamy sang, walking into the kitchen whilst stretching his arms out. He could hear a 'pop' in his shoulders and frowned as he swung his arms around looking for Clarke. They shared a studio apartment, so she shouldn't be that hard to find. "Clarke?" Bellamy called out, peering around the living room. Resorting to her bedroom, he wrapped on her door lightly and heard no answer. Peering in, he was only met with a bundle of clothes on the floor, medicine books stacked on the side of her desk and her bed made from two nights before. So Bellamy hadn't dreamt that she spent the night in his bed. Not romantically, of course. He hadn't realised when the two of them had dozed off. It just seemed to have happened.

Grabbing his phone out of his pocket, he found the blonde's number and texted her, " _Where are you?"_ He waited a couple of minutes, making his way back to the kitchen, when his phone pinged.

" _Got called in for an early shift."_ Bellamy sighed and ran his fingers through his hair at her reply. She had gotten home late last night as well. They really ought to give her a break.

" _But it's the long weekend,"_ he replied, placing his phone on the counter, as he prepared his cereal.

Grabbing the milk carton form the fridge, he heard a ping. _"Doesn't mean people aren't sick. Besides, we need the money."_ Bellamy sighed and lulled his head forward. This was his fault. If he hadn't sprained his stupid ankle both of them would've been earning partily steady money, and she wouldn't have to be doing extra shifts.

" _I'm sorry,"_ he replied. _"I'll make it up to you."_

Pouring his milk, he bit on his lip and thought of various extravagant ways to cheer her up. Placing the carton back in the fridge, he heard another ping. _"Don't worry about it,"_ she replied. _"It's game night, so we're bound to have fun with the others."_

Bellamy groaned and threw his head back. He wasn't sure how 'fun' game night was going to be, since all the friends had paired up into couple. Sure, he was happy (scratch that, _more_ than happy) for Raven and Wells, and Octavia and Lincoln. But sometimes he just wanted to spend the night with his friends were he didn't have to be surrounded by _luuurve_. He could already hear his mom's voice from the past, nagging him in his mind. "People's choices are _none_ of your business, Bellamy Blake." Grabbing his phone, he texted Clarke back. _"Game night sounds fun."_

" _Great. See you tonight."_ Bellamy placed his phone back down and scoured the cupboard for the last of the granola. He heard another ping, and turned around to read, _"P.S. I finished the last of the granola. I'll make it up to you."_

Bellamy sighed, and texted back, _"Thanks, Princess."_

* * *

Bellamy popped open the wine, carrying the two bottles to the counter. Game night, usually meant Uno night. And Uno night meant the living room had to have _a lot_ of space, because things usually got rowdy. He heard the key lock into place, and smiled as Clarke opened the door. "Hey, Princess," he said, greeting her with a large smile, only for it to disappear upon her state.

Her face was worn, and her arms dangled limply from her body. She looked exhausted, and like she had just been run over by a truck. "Hey, what's wrong?" he whispered, brushing the side of her arms. Clarke sighed heavily and removed her gaze from the floor.

"Can we cancel game night?" Clarke croaked, knackered from the day's work. "I just feel staying in and watching a shitty movie." Bellamy looked back at the table set up, and then back at Clarke's worn out frame. Sighing, he nodded.

"Sure," Bellamy said, giving her arms a squeeze. "You go take a bath, I'll figure something out."

Clarke stretched her arms out, feeling massively revived and content. A bath was exactly what she needed. And now, for the shitty movie. Wrapping herself around with a towel, Clarke moved towards the door, frowning as she heard the muffled combination of murmur and chatter.

Walking into the living room, she saw wine spilt across the table and a broken wine glass. "Bellamy?" Clarke called, worrying as their friends' knocked on the door another three times.

"I'll be right there in a minute!" he called from his room. "Just got some wine on my shirt. Get the door, please?"

Clarke huffed, looking down at her towel clad self. They had seen her like this before, right? When they went to the beach for the fourth of July, or when they'd go swimming. The only thing was that she wasn't naked underneath her towel for all of those thing. Then again, wasn't she naked under her clothes all the time? "Oh what the hell," Clarke muttered, marching towards the door at Octavia's murmurs (" _What the hell's taking them so long?"_ ) They were going to cancel anyway.

"Hey guys," Clarke said, swinging the door open, so that three quarters of her body was hidden behind the door.

"Woah," Raven said, her brows raising to the top of her forehead. She supressed a grin, and looked at Octavia, who seemed completely indifferent with her hand on her hip.

"You busy?" Octavia asked, in her all the prominent Blake tone.

"Actually," Bellamy called, walking towards the door, whilst putting on his shirt. "We were kinda thinking of cancelling." Now it was Wells' brows that were shot to the top of his forehead, as Bellamy stood beside Clarke, brushing her shoulder.

"Oh?" Wells said, raising a brow, whilst nudging Raven in the back slightly.

"Couldn't you have told us before we drove down here?" Octavia huffed, slightly disappointed at the food she was going to miss. Her brother was always the better cook than her.

"Well I was going to initiate the peace treaty by giving you some bottles of wine, but…" he motioned, towards his new shirt. "I spilt it all over the table and myself, so that present is out the window."

"Spilt wine, huh?" Raven smirked, her brow cocked at Bellamy. Bellamy and Clarke both frowned and met the others' eyes, before rolling their eyes.

"Okay," Bellamy started, nudging Raven off their door frame. "That's enough. Time to go," he ushered, closing the door behind them. "Goodbye!"

"We love you too!" Raven yelled, followed by a cluster of chuckles. "They're totally boning," she muttered, though not quite enough to mute the pink spreading across Clarke's cheeks.

"Hey, that's my brother!" Octavia retaliated from the other side of the door.

"Yeah, please don't scar me too," Wells said.

"It's about time though," Lincoln quipped, causing what seemed to be a nudge from Octavia. "Bellamy and Clarke, two sides of the same coin."

"Now that's something you don't hear every day," Octavia muttered.

Clarke swivelled to face Bellamy, who waved his hand aimlessly at the door, as if to say _ignore them_. "I kinda feel like getting 'Fifty shades of Grey' and playing it out loud just to piss them off, but then I would be endorsing it."

"Which would be an insult to all of mankind," Clarke muttered, walking towards her room.

"Now, what shall we watch?" Bellamy called, rummaging through their collection of DVDs. Clarke returned in her pyjamas, with her hair let loose. "Legally Blonde or Inside Out?"

"A blonde who kicks ass intellectually and proves stupid stereotypes wrong?" Clarke said, flopping onto the couch. "Erm, Legally Blonde please."

"The badass Elle Woods it is," Bellamy said, placing the DVD into the player as if it was royalty. Clarke smiled, as he sat back onto his side of the couch. Sometimes when you felt down, you just needed a good movie with some good company.

* * *

 **A/N: Sorry for being MIA the past two days, as I said I've got the flu, so it's been a tad bit difficult. Hope this makes up for it though! Let me know what you think :) You can find me on tumblr under 'biglittlebluebox'**


	6. Chapter 6

**Today _sucked_. I'm so stressed out, I can't make sense of anything, I have this horrible test tomorrow and I don't know what happened but somehow I just broke down crying in front of you.**

* * *

Clarke walked into the apartment, her clothes soaked and her hair dripping with water. She walked without seeing, dropping her bag by the door, barely being able to make a step without breaking. She felt numb. "Clarke?" Bellamy murmured, his head rising from the couch, aware of her fragile state. "What's wrong?"

Clarke raised her head to meet his gaze, but her lips trembled when she tried to speak and a strangled rasp escaped her. Dropping to the floor, Clarke began sobbing, her hands scratching thinly at the floorboards. Heavy, gross sobs wracked her body, as Bellamy rushed in front of her, pulling her into his grasp. "Hey, hey, hey," he ushered, cupping the side of her face to rest on his shoulder. "What happened?"

Clarke dug her fingers into his arm, as she tried to steady herself, to find the words. "I tried to- I tried to save him," she blubbered, pinching the bridge of my nose. "I know it shouldn't affect me. I know I can't let it affect me. It makes me irresponsible, and uncoordinated. But I seriously thought they could save him. I was watching them do the best that they could on this child, but he still ends up dying. I couldn't even help them. Stupid medic. I felt useless."

Bellamy held her tighter and rested his chin on top of her head, as she leant on his chest. "It's not your fault. You tried to do the best you could. You tried to do the best you were allowed to do," he whispered, slowly stroking his thumb against her temple. "And it's not stupid for you to feel bad about this. It's human nature for you to break at some point. Especially when someone dies. Your feelings just show that you care. And it's using that care that you can help others."

Clarke sniffled a bit, her sobs having lessened and she levelled her shaky breaths. "I watched them tell the parents. It's like their whole world crumbled down. Their whole world _did_ crumble down," Clarke croaked, holding onto Bellamy tighter. "Sometimes I feel like I can't handle it. Any of this. What's the point of getting into all of this, if I can't save people?"

Bellamy pulled away and cupped Clarke's face in both his hands, directing her attention to his words. "I want you to listen to me very carefully, Clarke Griffin," he said, a firm sense of determination in his stance. "Somethings are always going to be out of your control. Somethings will never be your fault. All you can do is hope to do the best you can. The rest is out of your hands. And that is not your fault."

Clarke blinked slowly, nodding as she absorbed Bellamy's words. He was right. Didn't make it hurt any less, but he was right. She had to get used to the reality of the world. "Good," Bellamy said, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "Now let's go prepare for your test tomorrow."

Clarke groaned, she had completely forgotten about the test. Bellamy got up onto his feet and dragged Clarke by the arm. "Do we have to? I can't even think right now. Or function properly."

Bellamy plopped her onto the kitchen counter seat, and squeezed her shoulders. "One step at a time," he murmured, walking towards the cutlery. "You need to ace that test tomorrow, you can raise your credit." Grabbing two spoons, he placed them in Clarke's hand before rushing to her room. "We'll both stay up, and help you get through this," he said, returning with Clarke's files in his hands.

Clarke smiled, as he plopped them onto the counter. "You would do that for me?" she whispered, as Bellamy rushed to the freezer.

"Of course," he frowned, as if she should've already known the answer. Grabbing something from the freezer, Clarke smiled as he plopped a tub of ice cream slap bang in the middle of them.

"But first," he said with an impish grin. "We gotta get some ice cream into our systems."

* * *

 **A/N: I will never be able to get over yesterday's episode. I am broken. I can't.**


	7. Chapter 7

**We were baking chocolate chip cookies and I got a bit of dough on my nose, did you tell me? _No…_ _YOU ATE IT!_ And now I'm standing here, trying my hardest not to blush and goddamit, please wipe that grin off your face! I KNOW, okay? We're mutually pining af, but could we not drag cookie dough into it?**

* * *

Clarke shifted her key into place, only to open up the door and find Bellamy waiting by the counter, still clad in his outdoor gear (and a cute lil beanie, which she hadn't picked out at _all_ ) yelling, "Surprise!"

Clarke blinked blankly at the empty living room and kitchen. "What?" she mumbled, failing to see the surprise aspect of this all.

"I went grocery shopping," Bellamy said, rifling through the bags on the counter, "and bought the perfect ingredients for a night in, of baking."

Clarke could feel her excitement growing as she hesitantly neared the counter. "Chocolate chip cookies?" she asked, brows raised and finger pointed at the bags.

Bellamy nodded with an impish grin, holding the bag of chocolate chips next to his face. "You bet."

* * *

Clarke's favourite activity was baking (that and watching endless TV). Clarke's _least_ favourite activity was baking with another human being. This preference, however, did not apply to Bellamy Blake. She didn't know whether it was the food, the baking or the cooking, but the two of them always managed to work in perfect unison. Music would be blasting, terrible dancing would follow, and there would always be a generous helping of chocolate chips. _Always_ a generous helping of chocolate chips.

Clarke swiped her finger through the bowl of leftover cookie dough, as Bellamy placed the actual cookies in the oven. "Hey!" Bellamy said, reaching his hand over her, trying to get some cookie dough himself. "Sharing is caring," he muttered, as Clarke elbowed him out of the way.

"Not when it comes to cookie dough!" she said, scooping the bowl into her hands. Bellamy wrapped his arms around hers, and pulled on the bowl, trying to pry her fingers off the bowl. Clarke nudged her face against the bowl, as it hovered over her, out of her reach. "No!"

"I thought we agreed to share," Bellamy sang, raising the bowl above his head. "We're doing this together." Clarke frowned and crossed her arms over her chest. Chocolate chip cookies were her weakness.

"Fine. We'll address the bowl once we've finished cleaning," she huffed, blowing a strand of stray hair out of her face. Bellamy smiled in triumph, as Clarke turned around and grabbed the cloth.

"Oh and Clarke," Bellamy called from behind her.

"Yeah?" Clarke murmured, turning around to see Bellamy's face dip near hers. What is he-?

Bellamy opened his mouth and bit a piece of dough smeared on Clarke's nose. Clarke blinked in shock, as she felt Bellamy's teeth, being careful enough to _just_ brush her skin. Did-did he just?

Seeing her face redden, Bellamy smiled triumphantly as he chewed on the dough, with the biggest grin on his face.

"Oh, okay," Clarke squeaked, turning around and trying her best to fight the red appearing on her face. Looking over her shoulder, she saw Bellamy grinning to himself, as he worked the dishes. "Hey, Bellamy?" Clarke called.

"Yeah?" he called, looking over his shoulder. He felt her lips before he saw her movement. His brows rose in initial shock, but could feel himself push forward, returning her gesture. Bellamy could feel himself melt under her warmth. His hands settled on the curve of her back, as her hands laced around the nape of his neck. He could feel himself breathe her in, as she pulled away, suppressing a grin.

Swiping her finger across the edge of his lip, she pulled it back with a triumphant smile. "You've got a bit of cookie dough on your lip," she murmured, with her brow raised. Sauntering her way back to the table, Bellamy chuckled to himself, as Clarke resumed her wipe down of the counter with an extra kick.

Turning to his own job at the sink, Bellamy scrubbed the dishes, humming along with the music in the background and the sweet taste of cookie dough on his lips.

* * *

 **A/N: Sorry for the late update, hope this chapter makes up for it. We're nearing the end, my friends. It's been a great journey, only two more chapters to go ;) Let me know what you think. You can find me on tumblr under 'biglittlebluebox'.**


	8. Chapter 8

**SERIOUSLY I NEED US TO HAVE A NO NAKED/HALF NAKED RULE IN OUR HOME…. Or maybe, upon further thought…. _Never mind_ _._**

* * *

Clarke yawned, stretching her arms out and sighing as she heard a satisfying 'pop' in her shoulder. Rummaging through the cupboards, she could hear the sound of Bellamy in the shower, and looked for the last of the granola. "Damn," she hissed, thumping her head against the cupboard. She had forgotten that _she_ was the last one to finish the granola, and _she_ had promised to buy some more. Opening the fridge door, she noticed they were out of milk and creamer too.

Making a mental shopping list, Clarke got changed and rushed to the door. "Bellamy, I'm going out. I won't be long!" she called, slinging her bag on the shoulder. Slipping her shoes on, she rushed out the door, to the loud sounds emitting from her stomach. "Stupid granola addiction," she mumbled.

* * *

"I'm back!" she yelled, swinging the door shut behind, only to freeze upon her entrance.

It was like catching a deer in headlights.

Clarke's eyes locked with Bellamy's as they both froze for a second, before she let out a small yelp, and turned around, covering her eyes. "Oh my god, what are you doing?" she yelled, jumping on the spot, trying to erase the image of a naked Bellamy Blake out of her mind. This time it was most definitely _not_ his butt. "Why would you do that to me?"

"Do that _to you_?" he yelled, rushing to pull his pants on. "What about _me?_ I'm scarred here too! You said you wouldn't be back in a long time!"

Clarke gasped, blinking repeatedly at the door. "I said, 'I won't be long.' Will not be long!"

"Well excuse me, if I have difficulty hearing you over the shower!" he said, pulling his trousers on now.

"What were you doing fully naked in the morning anyway?! We need a no naked rule," Clarke said, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Sometimes," Bellamy said, reaching out for his belt. "I like to walk around our apartment naked. I feel liberated," he said, in a matter of fact tone.

Clarke sighed, knowing she couldn't argue that one. "Well, please at least tell me, you didn't sit on anything. Not the couch."

"Oh, _please,_ " Bellamy scoffed. "Like your naked body hasn't ever touched that couch before. Our sex lives have led both of us to be naked around this apartment at some point," he huffed.

"My sex life is _none_ of your concern," Clarke said, crossing her arms.

"Well it may as well be some day," Bellamy muttered. Clarke whipped around, a glare in her eyes, and her hand on her hip, as Bellamy buckled his pants. Her eyes subconsciously gazed up and down his torso, as Bellamy lifted his head up to meet her gaze. Clarke cleared her throat and lifted her brows.

"And what the hell is that supposed to mean?" she said, her eyes glaring at his confused face, as he tried to find the correct words.

"W-well, what I _meant_ was…," Bellamy wondered, licking his lips. "It…may be the concern of whoever you have sex with in the future…," he frowned and pinched the bridge of his nose. "No-no. That's not what I meant. I _mean_ it may as well be somebody because…I may walk in accidently or I might be at home…so…I really think we should work out a system or something."

Clarke narrowed her eyes at his loss of words, and dropped her hand by her side. "Right," she said, her eyes roaming around the room. "Maybe the tie thing…or…a feather. You know what we'll figure it out later," she said, scrunching her nose, as she awkwardly sidled towards the kitchen island.

She didn't know why her cheeks were flaring up or there was tension in the air, it wasn't like they hadn't talked about sex before. Past conversations had been casual and funny. This was tense. Clarke shook her head, as she dropped off the bags on the counter.

Turning around as she neared her room door, Clarke saw Bellamy shake his head as well, and thump it against his hands. Sighing to himself, he bent over and got his shirt, stretching it on top of him. Raising her brows, Clarke shrugged to herself as she entered her room. On further thought, maybe they didn't need the no nudity rule after all.

* * *

 **A/N: Sorry for the late update! School work and having a virus really caught up with me. Thank you for your reviews, and remember patience is a virtue and personal life can take over. Only one more chapter left! Let me know what you think. You can find me on tumblr under biglittlebluebox.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Based on the prompt 'We accidentally drank all of the wine and now we're slow dancing to the sound of the television.'**

* * *

Clarke dropped into her seat by the counter, flinging her wet hair to the side. "So what is it today? Wine or hot coco?" Clarke asked Bellamy who was currently wiping the counters down. She wriggled her toes into her slippers and smiled sleepily, as she propped her chin on her palms.

"Despite it not being Wine-day Wednesday, I think a bottle of wine is most deserved following our work crazed week," Bellamy said, his voice a sleepy mumble. Clarke smiled widely at his answer, causing Bellamy to ruffle her hair for the dork she is. Post-shower wine sessions with Bellamy on a Friday night was her favourite.

Bellamy grabbed two wine glasses and placed them on the counter, pouring in a generous amount of red wine. "So how was work today?" Bellamy asked, handing Clarke her glass.

"The usual. People complaining. Being understaffed. Lots of things happening at once." Clarke listed, searching her brain for any other information. "Oh and I asked for Wednesday off, so I'll be able to finally catch on my sleep and get that paper done. What about you?" she asked, as Bellamy leaned forward, resting on his elbows against the counter.

"Well, I started off the day cleaning vomit off the gym mat, since a kid literally vomited two seconds after announcing he was sick. He should be okay though. Got to build some teamwork between my class of sixteen year olds. I think those delinquents care more for each other than they'd like to admit…" Bellamy's words drawled as Clarke took a sip off her wine with a little ' _mhmm.'_

"Did I ever tell you about the time Wells and I dressed up as Luke and Leia in school?" Clarke asked, squinting her eyes at the memory.

Bellamy's eyes widened in shock. "No! You never told me that," he gasped. "Go on!"

"It was dress up as your favourite character day, and obviously I was the queen badass Princess Leia, also known as Commander of Badass; and Wells just had to be the justice fighting jedi Luke. Like it makes sense, you know? Needless to say we weren't the only ones dressed up as Star Wars characters, but we did win second in the class contest for original costume." Clarke muttered, with a huff of pride. "Though I did stick a pair of Danish swirls to the sides of my head, which was useful to eat when hungry."

Bellamy scoffed and chuckled to himself, taking a gulp of his own wine. "Did I ever tell you about the time I took Octavia to her first dance?" Clarke shook her head, as Bellamy launched into the story. "This was long past mom was gone. I'd gotten custody over O, and she hadn't ever been allowed to go to a dance before. Mom hadn't allowed her because there would be no one available to take her, plus it was too dark to go by herself. This is Brooklyn we're talking about."

"The land of Captain America?" Clarke asked, taking another sip as Bellamy moved to sit in the seat beside her.

"You bet," he smiled, though his eyes were glassy as if he were somewhere else. "But I finished work early and knew how upset she was, so I sent the nanny home, telling her I got it covered. Her eyes lit up when I told her we could go. I was chaperoning of course."

"Great," Clarke chuckled, with a cluck of her tongue.

Clarke smiled slightly at the nostalgia swirling in Bellamy's eyes. "She was so excited and nervous at the same time, and _so adorable_." Clarke snorted, knowing fully well Octavia would hit his head for that comment. "And I watched from the sides as she joined the crowd, mixing with the teens. She loved it so much I couldn't ask her to leave. Every time ten minutes would pass, it would be 'just another ten minutes.' Jasper was there. He fell flat on his face several times. It was glorious. Nearly killed him with my death glare when he got too close though."

Clarke scoffed, "Always the protective brother."

"Well yes and no. My sister, my responsibility. And I know how sleazy guys can be, you could've asked my mom that. The strings she had to pull for us to get anywhere," Bellamy clenched his jaw, biting on his tongue as he finished the last of his wine. "But it was the happiest I'd seen her since mom passed, so I think the cleaning and the vomiting kids that followed was worth it."

Clarke laughed as Bellamy finished his wine. She had only had one glass, and she knew she could tolerate far more, but the warmth she felt combined with Bellamy's air of safety gave her an idea. "C'mon," she said, getting onto her feet and taking Bellamy's hands in hers.

"What are you-" he started, both startled, yet smiling slightly.

Clarke turned the volume of the television of up. Turning around, still holding Bellamy's hand, she pulled close to him, placing her hand on his shoulder and the other in his own. "Are you drunk?" Bellamy frowned.

Clarke chuckled and shook her head. "One glass, really, Blake?" she scoffed. "No," she said, moving her face closer to his.

Bellamy smiled and flickered his gaze up to her eyes. Clarke could feel his short, warm breaths close against her face. "What are we doing?"

"We're dancing," Clarke smiled, nuzzling her face into his shoulder, as he placed his hand on her hip.

"To the beat of the TV?" Bellamy asked, frowning slightly. Then again this was Bellamy and Clarke and dancing to the sound of the TV made complete sense

"Yeah," Clarke muttered into his shoulder, nuzzling her nose in even further. Bellamy smiled at her action, pulling her closer. He felt like warmth, safety and a friend, and she felt like home, wonder and hope for a better future.

"Clarke?" Bellamy murmured, resting his cheek against her head.

"Yeah?" she whispered, turning her face to see him.

"I like you. A lot," he began, trepidation and rejection settling in as Clarke pulled away, her fingers still entangled in his. "And I know we've both been through a lot, and we're really good friends, and that kiss was just platonic, but you give me hope. Sometimes you drive me insane, but you make me laugh and you make me feel better after a crappy day, and you know just the right thing to say, and I know I'm just a friend above everything else, but I like you. A lot."

Bellamy paused as he read Clarke's face. Her chewing lip and her hesitant eyes. "Bellamy."

"Yeah?" he asked, his voice breathless and hopeless.

"That kiss wasn't platonic," she said, leaning in to deliver the news.

Bellamy blinked a couple of times, letting the words sink in as Clarke slowly moved forward, snaking her arms around his neck. "Are you sure? How drunk are you right now?"

"Like I said, it was one glass. I'm not drunk. I know what I'm saying and I know what I've decided. I've felt like this for a quite a while," she smiled, as Bellamy placed his hands on her hips, pulling her closer. "How drunk are you?"

"To know that I know what I'm saying, I know what I've decided and I've felt like this for a quite a while," he smiled, as her face hovered inches away from his.

"Then kissing you won't be a bad thing," she whispered.

"Far from it," he replied, closing the gap between them. Clarke sighed, as she felt his warmth radiate all the way to his lips, pushing forward slightly. She smiled against his lips, as his hands cupped the side of her face. She frowned, as he pulled away.

"Wait how long is a _while?"_ Bellamy asked, with a brow raised and a smug smirk on his lip. Clarke rolled her eyes and shoved him in the shoulder.

"Shut up, you ass," she said, rolling her eyes and shoving him in the shoulder.

"Your ass now," he murmured, wriggling his eyebrows. "Wait no, that doesn't work."

Clarke groaned, throwing her head back as he went on one of his rambles. "No, wait," Bellamy laughed, pulling her back in by the tips of her fingers. "I'm kidding," he whispered, cupping the side of her face again.

'Mhmm," Clarke muttered, with a suppressed smile in her eyes, as they kissed again. 'Yep, this felt right' she thought, deepening the kiss. He tasted like warmth, air and safety. He tasted like Bellamy Blake. And she was very grateful for his presence in her life.

* * *

 **A/N: Well that's it folks! You've reached the end of the Bellarke!Roomates AU train. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I loved writing it. Threw in a lil' Cap reference because I just watched it yesterday and it was AMAZING, also that bellarke hug was the best birthday present a girl could've asked for. My shipper heart is very happy.**

 **P.S. Go follow a fellow writer friend Mayura on instagram ( mayura_u) and tumblr (thewriterslibrary) she's got some exciting things coming up.**


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